


The Show Must Go On

by Program



Category: Blade (Movie Series)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:52:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1280107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Program/pseuds/Program
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chair crashed through the window* behind him, shattering against the metal panels and splintering with terrifying beauty as Scud dropped to the floor to avoid being impaled by the fucking furniture that Deacon had decided would be just so fantastic to fling at his head.</p><p>*- we're pretending there's a window to Deacon's balcony tralallaa</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Show Must Go On

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by my wonderful sibling

A chair crashed through the window behind him, shattering against the metal panels and splintering with terrifying beauty as Scud dropped to the floor to avoid being impaled by the fucking furniture that Deacon had decided would be just so fantastic to fling at his head.

"Hey, man, I said I'd handle it I just need more tim-" his plea fell on deaf ears, cut off when a cold hand gripped his throat and pulled him off of his back on the ground with little to no regard for the fact that the inhuman strength within those scrawny limbs could destroy him without a second thought. He could feel glass and splinters of wood on his back where he'd gone down, and even that was nothing compared to the look of rage in those glacial eyes, Deacon's face fixed in a disappointed sneer.

"We went over this, Scud," the name was spat with venom. "You had your time, you had more than your fuckin' time and now your time is up," Scud was human and Deacon had no use for a human that couldn't do the job he promised he would. He loosened his hand to allow just enough air into Scud's lungs to keep him from passing out before his master was done with him.

"I think you need to be reminded what you are," and that statement alone drove fear into Scud's expression enough to have him writhing and clawing at the vampire's grasp on his throat, desperate to get away. Useless, though, and he was hyperaware of the fact that Deacon was moving, dragging him by nails in the familiar's neck towards that blindingly white bedroom and Scud knew exactly what was going to happen here.

"Boss, please," it was a choked and pitiful sound, and he contemplated why he even tried. He was certain it had something to do with not wanting to die. Yeah, something like that.

There was a moment of weightlessness and he was being lifted back off the ground, carelessly tossed on mattress of Deacon's modernized coffin like he was no heavier than a toy. For all he was aware, that's exactly what he was. No, he was certain that's all he had ever been, long before this psychopath even walked into his life.

Scud can scarcely remember why he had chosen this life. Something about not being cattle even though life now didn't feel any better, if not worse. Fantastic.

He knew better than to struggle as nails ripped at his clothes, and for a moment he entertained complaining about the ruin of his outfit. He kind of liked it, but he kicked out anyway, his breathing rapid and terrified despite himself and really he should've seen the strike coming. His breath hitched at the sudden burning along his cheek, four long gashes from Deacon's sharpened nails splitting the rugged skin and blood dribbling slowly from the lacerations before it was caught by Deacon's tongue.

Scud held perfectly still, trying so very hard to ignore the proximity of those fangs as his master went to work on the rest of his clothing before Scud was bared to the world, chilled by the vampire pinning him down and the lack of heat in the building.

"Do you know why you're still alive, Scud?" the familiar knew better than to answer that, and swallowed the snarky reply that sat on his tongue that was likely to get him hurt. Deacon grinned. "Because you amuse me, I could've killed you the first time you failed, but I didn't, and really," Deacon sniffed arrogantly,"You should be fucking thankful for that."

Yes, oh so thankful to be someones fuck toy.

Deacon forced his way in between Scud's bared thighs, not even bothering to undress himself, only undoing his pants enough to get them out of the way. Scud found that absolutely unfair and completely degrading. He was also pretty sure that was the point. The prep was quick and rough, and really bare minimum because this wasn't about him or his pleasure, it was all about his master and the fact that Scud didn't want any of this just didn't fucking matter. When Deacon fucked into him, he screamed. It hurt, nothing about it felt good, there was nothing even remotely overwhelming about it other than the pain searing up his spine as he arched off the bed, fingers curled menacingly in the sheets as the strain of his pained expression pushed more blood out of the slashes on his cheek.

Deacon seemed to pay extra attention to those.

It was quick and dirty and painful, and when Scud thought it was over, Deacon's laughter rumbling in his ears drew him from his pain-induced stupor and into a whole new level of awareness.

"What...," it was the start and end of his statement as teeth were suddenly slicing into his skin, swallowing a cry that never made it passed his throat. Deacon had bitten him and if that wasn't just the stupidest shit, Scud didn't know what was. He had no way of knowing if he was about to die or be turned, and he supposed he should've foreseen the darkness slipping in around his vision and the dizziness as it set in. He was going to die and that was just fucking fantastic.

Feebly, he pushed at Deacon's shoulders, not enough blood in his veins to put any conviction behind the action and when his world went black, he let it take him.

x---x

He hadn't expected to wake up the next day without a pulse.


End file.
